War In Heaven

Tomorrow's woman has seen war in heaven

she is the blue of light before rain draws

she has watched the women

she loves turn to crashing stones

and not know how to swim.

above the stars that cannot be filmed

stars that are not known as paradise

known for their isolation

biographers of pain

too full of memory.

Tomorrows woman is the colour of night

tomorrows woman is your child

tomorrow woman is shelter

she is sex

the last shock against death

sex the last peace

sex that forgets black and white

she is the first to hold a bird in her hands

and learn of foreign love

and not melt at the idea of difference.

Tomorrows woman is too fat

she bleeds because she knows what it is to feel

a whole generation on her hips

and still be seen as empty

a dog

an ocean of plastic

a war child.

Face on a stand

eyes too close together

mouth like a rental car

feet together

the oven is on.

Tomorrows women is your father

and his mother and his mother and his mother

she does not fade but becomes a city

a school in the wind lighting

hands like stolen trees

stuck up in the fog

A library card to Jerusalem

only human in waves

a courtyard of scarlet fire

closed so far down into itself

it’s hard to imagine what kind of God could believe

the dead sea was female

it’s hard to imagine what kind of God could believe

that you could float on your back

and not drown.

Greta Bellamacina